


The Best Laid Plans

by babayagadook



Category: The Yogscast, Urban Magic Yogs - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babayagadook/pseuds/babayagadook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Strippin and Benji want to do is renovate an old subway station to use to get around the city, but the Garbage Court has other plans for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Awww, Benj! This is perfect!” They were standing on a long since abandoned subway station, daylight pouring into the worn down space, highlighting the dust kicked up by their passing. The sound from a train passing miles away echoed around them, but these tracks had long since been unused, covered in dust much like the rest of the old station.

“It gets better, mate.” Benji ran off before Strippin could respond, vanishing into the gloom. It was impossible to see exactly how big this station was, but Strippin felt like it was a large space. The promise of repairing it and making a grand station once again gave him more purpose than he had in a long time. At least better than working for the Garbage Court had been. “Taa-Daaa!”

Benji pulled behind him a wagon that he had attached a mast and sail to as well as a steering wheel and rudder. In short, it looked ridiculous.

“What,” Strippin said, “Is that?”

“A ship!” Benji was obviously proud of himself, posing as if acting like a model on The Price is Right, showcasing what could possibly be described as a ship.

“Nah mate. That’s not a ship. Does it even float?”

“Of course it floats! I checked it myself! Couldn’t call it a ship otherwise.”

“Why?” Strippin couldn’t think of anything else to say. This was completely out of the blue. Completely unnecessary. It wasn’t even a proper ship!

Benji looked hurt. “I just thought I could get you out of being the Garbage Court’s slave labor. Wouldn’t have to deal with them if you didn’t have to be bound to that joke of a ship they gave you.”

Strippin patted the shape of the bottle in his bag absentmindedly. It wasn’t nearly a proper ship. Even less so than the one Benji had just presented him with. But at least it looked like a proper one. Sure it was a cheap souvenir trash, but it reminded him of a ship he once was attached to. Still, being free from Smiffy and not having to do the Garbage Court’s grunt repair work would be fantastic. And Benji only meant well.

“It’s perfect, mate.” A smile broke out over Benji’s face as he finished wheeling the ship over so Strippin could examine it more. The smile spread to Strippin, sure it wasn’t an actual ship, but it was a fantastic one. Who else had one that you could wheel around on land after you.

Looking at it closer, Strippin could see that it wasn’t perfect. Far from it. There were welds made and knots that would come undone given the slightest provocation. It was clear that Benji had never sailed a thing in his life, let alone spent any time at all around a boat. What else could you expect from a Barghest, though? They’re all perfectly happy to stay on solid ground. Between this and the station, he’d be plenty busy for the next few weeks.

“What are you going to do with the bottled boat?” Benji asked, squatting on the opposite side of the ship, “And what are you going to name this masterpiece?”

Strippin took the boat out of his bag, the bottle was polished, not a smudge on it. The little model ship looked as if it had a fresh coat of paint, everything immaculate inside it. He turned it over in his hands thinking. He wasn’t particularly fond of this thing. It represented chains more than anything. He still didn’t want to get rid of it. It was shit, but it was his. But he had a new shit ship to take care of. One that wasn’t chains to control him, but given out of friendship, no strings attached.

“Well I’ll just have to destroy it, won’t I? Can’t move on unless I do. Only problem is I can’t do it myself.”

“How do you want it killed?” Benji asked, holding out a hand to take the bottle.

“Don’t care how. Just take care of it.” Strippin tossed the bottle over to him, feeling the anxiety starting to grip him. As much as he hated the thing, his instincts to protect it went into overdrive at knowingly putting it in danger. “Just don’t give the fucking thing back to me. I want it gone, but it’s going to be rough.”

“No worries, I never listen to anything you say anyway.”

Strippin punched Benji over the Shit Ship, dropping the subject to focus on their dingy surroundings. “We need to brighten this up. I can’t see shit.”

“Maybe you can’t, but it’s plenty bright enough for me.” Benji mocked, earning him another punch.

“You and your fucking dog eyes. Well for those of us who aren’t K-9’s, it’s fucking pitch black, mate. We need light. Is there any electrical in here?”

“I think there is. Should be pretty simple to hook it back up. Till then I brought these lanterns.” Benji produced several small electric camp lanterns from his bag, turning them on and tossing them towards the wall on either side.

The station was in worse shape than Strippin originally thought. The tiles were all cracked and uneven. He was sure if he had tried to go into the gloom before, his face would have become acquainted with them rather quickly. Most of the pillars looked intact. There were a couple that for sure needed to be replaced, but overall, not bad. The actual space was perfect. For being an older station, it was a large, open space. Once the lights got turned on and the tiling replaced it would be gorgeous.

Suddenly the light from the entrance dimmed, throwing the station into a half gloom. Footsteps echoed around the area. Benji and Strippin stared at eachother paniced. “Did you fucking find us a place that was already claimed.” Strippin hissed.

“No! I swear! Nothing’s been down here for decades!” Benji was panicking, looking between the stairs, the tracks, the Shit Ship, and Strippin.

“Heeello boys!” A voice that Strippin recognised all too well sounded from the backlit figure still descending the stairs. “What have we here?”

Strippin groaned as Smith appeared, slowly being brought into definition from the slight light of the lanterns. The kelpie strolled into the room, obviously not surprised in the slightest to find the two of them there.

“What are you wearing?” Benji said before he realized what had come out of his mouth. It was a fair question, Strippin decided. It was a blue jumpsuit that, frankly, looked ridiculous on him. He vaguely wondered what he could have done to piss someone off enough to make him wear that. Maybe Trott had some sort of jumpsuit fetish. Either way he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the kelpie.

Smith, for his credit, did not seem phased by the question, “Some of us actually have jobs. Not that you would know anything about that. How’s the garbage been lately?”

Strippin gave Benji a look before he could say anything else. When dealing with the Garbage Court things tended to go a lot better when you just do what they say. It wasn’t worth the trouble otherwise. Especially when Kirin’s Court didn’t want you. “What do you want Smiff?”

“Just stopping by to say hello to my favorite Klabautermann. Making sure he’s not fucking himself over.” Smith’s smile could cut. There was nothing about him at that moment that was here to check on his favorite anything.

“As you can see we’re not doing anything. Just trying to find a place to call home is all.”

Smith paced over to the Shit Ship, pushed it a bit backwards with his boot. “And what do you call that? Cause it seems an awful lot like a new ship. Is the Peace Treaty not good enough for you anymore?” He strolled over to Benji and took the bottled ship out of his hands, “You weren’t thinking about getting rid of her, were you? I spent so long picking her out for you.”

Strippin looked away from Smith. He wasn’t getting away from the Garbage Court afterall. “Wasn’t going to do anything to her, Smiff. Just showing Benji what a proper ship should look like.”

“Good to hear that. But I’m going to hold old PT here for you for a while. Wouldn’t want anything to accidently happen to her.” Smith tossed the bottle in the air and caught it without paying it any attention. Strippin’s stomach flipped along with the bottle as he felt the pull to protect it. He could see where one of the ropes was coming loose already.

“Anything else we can help you with, Smith?” Strippin said tightly, trying not to glare. Benji sat across from him, unable to do anything.

Smith grinned his shit eating grin, knowing he’d won this little encounter, like there had been any challenge in the first place. “Well since you asked, Strippin, there is something you could do for the King. This little base of yours is in a perfect location. And since you two were planning on doing some excavation and rail laying, we’d thought it wouldn’t be any trouble to ask you to make a special tunnel.”

Strippin knew what he was going to ask right then and there and he was terrified. He held his breath, hoping that Smith wouldn’t ask what he was planning to, that there was some way around this.

“We need you to make a tunnel under a certain greenhouse. That’s no problem right? Good. See ya later boys. I’m sure you won’t dissapoint.” Smith leisurely strolled out of the station and up the steps. They heard the faint sound of an engine starting up and driving off. It was still a few minutes after silence fell back over the station that they finally broke the silence.

“Fuck.” Benji moved to stand up and walk to the edge of the platform next to the tracks.

“Fuck.” Strippin agreed.

“Anyway out of this?”

“Nope.”

“Fuck.”


	2. Always Darkest Before Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is hatched and promptly doubted all too late to do anything about it.

The two sat in the silent gloom, legs dangling off the edge of the platform, the tracks below their feet lost in the dark, a brief reflection every once in a while the only sign that they existed. The silence was a comfort, almost protective after the kelpie’s invasion. In it they could pretend that everything was okay, that Strippin was bound to the Shit Ship and that they were going to start creating a grand station. 

“How important is it that we follow the Garbage Courts orders?” Benji broke the silence, staring off down the tracks, watching something that Strippin had no way of seeing. 

“I’ve been taken in by them, Benj. Have to at least pretend to get along with them.” 

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it?” Benji turned to stare down Strippin, obviously set on an idea. 

“What’s the thing?”

“Pretend to get along.” At this point Benji was practically jumping up with excitement. “How much do you think they know about subways and building? Let alone creating a brand new tunnel?”

Strippin finally caught up with what Benji was suggesting, hope for their new safe haven once again blooming, “You. Are. Brilliant.”

“I fucking know, mate! We just need to look like we’re working until we get a chance to get your boat back and it’s smooth sailing from there!”

“You fucking didn’t make a ship pun.”

Benji grinned in a manner that the Cheshire Cat would be proud of, obviously proud of himself. He had had a lot of ideas throughout his life. Leaving the countryside to move to the city had been his best idea. Not fully thinking through everything he had needed before the move had been his worst. Since meeting Strippin, though, he was sure that the first couple of months was worth it and he sure as fucking hell wasn’t going to let those self proclaimed kings of a trash heap destroy it all. If it was the last thing he’d do, he’d make sure that Strippin would be free from those idiots. 

“Do you think that they’d give us the materials for the job?” 

“They fucking better!” Strippin was pacing back and forth along the edge of the platform, “We could probably get enough to take care of this as well. Don’t think they’d notice we’re asking for more than necessary. Just have to be careful of them checking up on us. Have to keep up appearances after all.”

“How do we find them to list our demands? Or is it a they’ll find us kind of thing?” 

“Nah, they’re easy to find. I fixed up their flat a couple months ago and it is not in a secluded location. I don’t even think they have anything protecting it. Ross is their only security feature.”

“Ross?”

“Gargoyle they somehow managed to convince to come along with them. Don’t know how they managed to get him away from whatever church he was protecting. Maybe he’s a malfunctioning one. Anyway, not my business.” 

“So we just waltz up to their flat, yeah? Easy done. Let’s go.” Benji started to make his way to the stairs leading out of their new home. Sure he didn’t know where he was going, but Strippin would catch him up and take over leading the way. He was sure of it.

“Benj. Benj! Benji stop!” Strippin hadn’t moved to follow him, instead he was standing in the exact same spot, staring at Benji like he had lost his mind. “We can’t just waltz up to their front door. At least you can’t.”

“Why not, we’re practically slave labor! They obviously don’t think anything of us!” 

“You’re not part of their court, mate. Not yet, at least. I don’t think they’ll let you stay free from their control for much longer. Can’t risk old Kirin getting ahold of you, can they?” 

Benji crossed back to Strippin, temporarily defeated. Today was a day of ups and downs, where they take what seems like a step forward only to fall down into a pit. He knew not to be defeated by this minor setback, but being blocked only because he wasn’t part of the Garbage Court was something of a sore topic. Neither of the courts had taken much interest in him when he first came to the city, both were perfectly happy to let him wander around, completely lost in the city’s overwhelming current of magics. It was definitely a sink or swim situation and Benji had been doing nothing but drowning those first months. It was only because a Klabautermann happened to cross his path one day and decide to fix him up that he was even here at all. 

Strippin threw his arm around Benji’s shoulders, grinning and brimming with confidence. “Never you mind, mate. I’ll just pop on over right quick and list our demands. While I’m gone you can start working on getting the electrical up, yeah?” 

“Yeah, alright. Can do.” 

“Hey. I’m not going to leave you, right?” Strippin held Benji’s shoulders, making him look straight into his eyes. “I’m coming back. You’re not alone.”

Benji shook off Strippin’s grip, walking over to the dim part of the station. “I’m not some delicate flower you have to constantly reassure, you know. I’m not that damaged that I can’t be left alone.”

“I know that Benj-”

“Then what are you waiting for? Go and hurry up.”

Strippin made to reply, go over to him, but decided against it. He’d said something that upset Benj and coddling him obviously wasn’t the answer. Instead he turned to leave, letting his echoing footsteps be his farewell to his partner. Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing. 

Benji pretended that Strippin’s silence didn’t hurt him. He knew he was being a right prick about it too. Strippin was just worried about him and he gave no reason why he shouldn’t be. His first few months here affected him more than what he wanted to admit. 

There’s nothing quite like arriving in the city after being able to run through the countryside uninhibited. Small towns and farms had a nice, easy current running through them. Enough so that it was obvious who was doing what and easy enough to tell who had a whiff of magic about them. Not to mention the sheep. If there was any one thing that Benji missed about the country, it was the sheep. There’s nothing quite like sinking teeth through a coat of wool and the snap of the skin as it gives way. The sharp, metallic smell of the pouring blood and the sweet gaminess of the muscle and fat being torn. Sheep were entirely satisfying in a way that he never found humans to be. 

Coming from complete freedom to the suffocating city was almost too much for him. Sure, plenty of fae had warned him about how the city just clings to you, how it tries to drag you down and sweep you up until you have no sense of self. But he didn’t listen. How could it really be that bad? Most fae lived in cities now, so there’s no way it could be that bad. Only their descriptions could never live up to how bad it was.   
The first day wasn’t too terrible. It was overbearing, but he was able to navigate to a nice, secluded place to spend the night. The dawn of the second day, though. He was barely able to feel where he ended and the stream of the city began. It was like being drug under by a current that he had no hope of escaping. He tried to stay afloat as best he could. Caught rats for food when he had no other options. Which was often. When you’re trying to keep yourself grounded, you don’t exactly interview in any way that makes it seem like you’re sane. 

And the courts didn’t help him. He approached Kirin first, deciding that his would be the best fit for him. After all, those Garbage kings so often tried to disrupt the city’s current that they couldn’t be that good. Kirin barely took a look at him before turning him away from his protection. He didn’t get any farther than introducing himself before being thrown from the greenhouse. The Garbage Court wasn’t any better. At least they heard him out before tossing him aside, declaring him useless. 

That only made the fact that they’re being ordered to make this tunnel all the more bitter for Benji. How was he so useless four months ago? This whole situation was stupid and he knew that it would only be so long before one of the boys from the Garbage Court made him swear fealty to them. He was surprised Smith didn’t do it while he was there. After all, what’s stopping him from running to Kirin and telling him about this? Surely that would be enough to get into his court. 

But he knew why they were in no rush. They had Strippin. There was no way that Benji could do anything that would cause Strippin harm. And he was sure that they would find the best ways to prolong whatever pain they would cause him. He’d heard rumors of Trott’s skill with a knife and wasn’t about to do anything to find out the truth about them. No, some things are best left unknown.  
He started to unscrew some of the light fixtures, pretending not be be deathly afraid for Strippin. While they were useful to that lot right now, how much longer before they do something to fuck up? Or was Strippin going to their flat them fucking up right out of the gate? 

“Fuck.” Benji mumbled to himself, sliding down against the tile. The dust on floor shifted a bit thanks to the displaced air, making it obvious just how long nothing had worked down here. Just what did they think they were doing? Tricking the Garbage Court? Trying to make a home for themselves here? They should just pack up and leave. Head to the country so Benji could show Strippin the joy of biting into a fresh sheep and not wearing glamors constantly. 

Too late to do anything about it now. Strippin was on his way to what could possibly be his death, and here he was. Curled up in a pile of dust with no way to help his only friend and lifeline in this city. In short, Benji was screwed.


End file.
